Fiction Character 1.1

"I can't change, even if I tried, even if I wanted to," Same Love by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis feat. Mary Lambert.


He wanders. He wonders. About many a thing at a time. So many things, in fact, that he loses track and in effect gets distracted rather easily. Too easily. He could be in the middle of contemplating Khalil Gibran, for all he could, and a passing motorbike would make all those thoughts join the carbon monoxide to come up in smoke.

His focus is weak. He can’t pay attention to anything for more than ten minutes. He opens the Pages document on his computer to write something up and is scrolling through his Facebook home in less than two minutes. It not that he wants to lose focus. He just does.

At least that’s what he says to himself. Comforting is the thought of not having control of yourself. You are no longer responsible for your actions when you aren’t in control of yourself, and that’s the way he likes it. Not taking responsibility for himself. For his own development. For the feelings of the people around him. For his relationship with God. 

It’s not under his control. If it was, he would be the best human being ever. He would be able to do so many things. He would read a lot more. He would learn how to play every sport that he can. He would pray on time all the time. He would be helpful at every opportunity he can. He would work on his assignments as soon as he receives them and wouldn’t stop until they’re finished. He would proofread his work, thrice, making improvements every time. He would get high distinctions. He would get a first-class degree.

But it’s not under his control. He’s tired all the time, so he sleeps way too much and works too little. He’s too slow a reader, so he puts his books aside. He’s way too busy, so he postpones any actual work until the very last minute. He’s not fit enough, so he doesn’t go down to the field to play any kind of sport. He was always a one-sport-guy anyway. He oversleeps, so he misses prayers. He doesn’t like proofreading his own work, so his first drafts are his final drafts. His EQ is low, so he hurts the people who love him.

Ah, not being in control is the best thing that could ever happen to a person. After all, how can God judge a person for how He has made His creation? These flaws aren’t mine, he says to himself. They were given to me. I did not choose to be this way. If I was born hardworking, then things would be different. But I wasn’t. So I’m not. 

And that’s perfectly fine.